


Home Fires

by Cutebutpsycho



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Family, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebutpsycho/pseuds/Cutebutpsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demeter and Hestia gossip over lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Fires

Times change and along with them things such as appearances and philosophies evolve. And that goes the same for Mount Olympus. 

Over time, the Gods’ quarters have evolved — Zeus’ area now looks like something fit for an oligarch, Hera’s garden is one of ever growing and ever changing delights (this month she’s settled for the Pacific Northwest), Ares looks like a cross of a bachelor pad and army barracks and so on and so forth.

But the fundamentals remain the same. Hestia knows this as she settles in for another day of tending the home fires and tackling the eternal question:

What’s for dinner?

Over time, her space has evolved from a simple hearth fire to something a bit bigger. Her kitchen is large and roomy and the best way to compare it to something is Julia Child’s kitchen. It’s not ostentatious, elaborate or even fancy. It’s practical. There’s a  breakfast bar where the other gods tend to flit in and out of grabbing a quick meal or a cup of coffee and exchanging chit chat, the coffee maker that is always brewing coffee and an enormous gas stove always hot, always burning.

Today it’s Demeter, back from a visit to Peru, paying Hestia a visit. She’s bundled up a few presents, including some ceviche that Hestia is enjoying for breakfast.

“You didn’t see Persephone off?” Hestia asks, after finishing up the ceviche and pouring another cup of coffee for Demeter. “You know she’s going to be gone for the winter.”

Demeter shrugs. “After a millennium of this, you get used to it,” she says, taking a bit of honey and mixing it with her coffee. 

“Liar,” only Hestia could say that to a goddess, but then again, being a goddess has its own perks. “You’re still mad that she went off and eloped with Hades.”

Demeter smiles bitterly. “It’s not that I don’t like him,” she retorts. “I mean, we all have our functions, but why couldn’t she tell me she wanted to marry him? Why run off like that? I thought we were close and she could tell me anything.”

Hestia shrugs and pulls out a cutting board and a knife off of the magnet strip on the wall. “Who knows? Maybe you were wrong.” Picking some herbs out of a pot, she begins to do a chiffonade cut.

“Obviously,” Demeter sips her coffee. “It just still stings,” she sighs. “Once trust is broken, you can’t get it completely fixed. It just makes me wonder what else she’s hiding from me. She’s still my baby.”

“She’s her own woman now,” Hestia says as she dumps the herbs into a small bowl and adds some butter to it. “They’re obviously happy. Hades seems happier than he ever was.”

“So help me if you say that he’s a better god because of her, I’m going to make that butter go rancid.”

The two of them begin laughing. They’ve heard it before — people have told Demeter to her face and Hestia’s heard the happy whispers around Olympus. Perhaps it wouldn’t sting so much if it wasn’t true.

“Besides,” Demeter continues after a long silence in which she watched Hestia butterfly and quarter a chicken, chop some vegetables and then top the whole thing with the herbed butter before popping it into the oven, “in all honesty, it’s just lonely sometimes. I miss having her around. What do I do now? It’s like losing a part of me.”

“Empty nest,” Hestia nods. “I totally understand that.” She snaps her fingers and a tray of cocktails slowly solidifies on the breakfast bar.

Demeter nods. Even though Hestia never married, never had kids, it’s clear that she does emphasize with Demeter. Which is why she went straight to Hestia after returning home. But for now, there’s something more vexing on her mind.

“Really?” she stares at the cocktails. “From the goddess who has her own herb garden out back and is raising her own chickens? Who insists on cooking even though she could will anything into existence? “

“I hate mixing cocktails. It’s so fiddly — not like cooking,” Hestia concedes. “Besides, Apollo and Dionysus have been working on these together and wanted me to taste test them. New flavor line. Called Bacchanalia.”

Demeter accepts the bright yellow drink and sips it. “Bit twee of a name,” she muses as the citrus-flavored alcohol slips into her mouth. “But it’s not bad at all.”

Hestia takes the bright blue one. “No, not bad,” she agrees. “And the name is a little too precocious for my taste.”

The two goddess taste the various drinks and critique the flavors (the balsamic strawberry vodka is a particular favorite — the jalapeno chocolate not so much). 

“Do you ever want to get out of the kitchen?” Demeter asks after they’ve devoured the roast chicken, vegetables and fresh baked rolls along with the wine. “I mean, you could have anything you want, but here you are.”

Hestia shrugs. “I like it here,” she replied. “Besides, I could ask the same of you — what are you going to do now that Persephone is back with her husband?”

“Fuck if I know,” Demeter says, then laughs at obscenity that popped out of her mouth. “I’m going to blame the wine for that one.” She leans forward and grins at Hestia. “I know — you need some inspiration. Let’s go out tonight. Take a night off from the kitchen.”

A slight grin breaks across Hestia’s face. Both of them know the truth — Demeter doesn’t want to go back to her empty home and doesn’t want to be alone. It’s the closest either of them will get to an admission of the truth, which suits them fine. “Well, it is Chinese New Year and there’s the soup dumplings that I’ve always wanted to taste,” she says slowly. “Not to mention Hong Kong has that obscenely hot crab dish.”

“Excellent.” Demeter stands up. “But what about the others?”

Hestia’s grin gets more wicked. “They’re gods dear sister. They can make their own damn food.”


End file.
